What is Needed
by teamouri1
Summary: Izaya is saved from death by a girl. Problem is; she seems to have forgotten everything. He decides to take her into his home out of selfish curiosity, discovering that she is the opposite of Shizuo; an angel. Another problem; she is starting to sneak her way into his heart. The last problem; Shizuo does not like this, or this girl, one bit and does not intend to share what is his.
1. The Death of Orihara Izaya

_What is needed, rather than running away or controlling or suppressing or any other resistance, is understanding fear; that means, watch it, learn about it, come directly into contact with it. We are to learn about fear, not how to escape from it.-Jiddu Krishnamurti_

"She's waking up!"

"Don't let her out!"

"Doctor she's escaping!"

"God dammit go after her!"

The evening had started out so lovely, so brilliantly; it was absolute perfection to the young man named Orihara Izaya. He was having the time of his life, getting his fix of what he enjoyed the most; messing with the proclaimed "monster", strongest man in Ikebukuro, Heiwajima Shizuo. It was their normal game of cat and mouse, but this one seemed to be much more lively to Izaya. As if they were taking the game up a notch, and he supposed that it would be considered a level up on the terms they were on now. Do not misunderstand, he still loathed Shizuo with a passion, and the feeling was mutual, but now he knew that he wouldn't quite enjoy their cat and mouse game ending anytime soon. Oh did he ever voice it so freely, so lovingly, enjoying the look of disgust on Shizuo's face as he began to lose his temper much quicker than he normally would.

To a normal person's view, Izaya's words would be considered to be a confession; a man who poured his soul out to the one he loved. But to a person who knew Izaya, and to a person who knew about the relationship he had with Shizuo, his words were basically a declaration of war. Words with a blunt meaning did not work for Izaya with his monster; they were tired and although they did still tug strings at the monster's mental stability, they just didn't quite have the edge they had to them before. Then so like a knife that lost its touch, he recovered it, kicking up his insults to not only confuse the monster, but shake him as well. The joy it brought Izaya was indescribable, it made him feel the jubilee of making his way into the monster's mind.

Laughter bubbled at his core and nearly took over his being; some may have called him crazy. Some may have called him insane. Maybe even the chance of calling him dangerous. Dare to even call him psychopathic. But he had no problem with people calling him this, for it was true after all. He was a no good person that mostly enjoyed people's misery; he was the type of person that people didn't trust. He was the type of person that looked like he could devour you whole if he gave you a certain look. Type of person you didn't want interested in you; hoping that he'd just stay far away from you. Looks that you know are very deceiving to the eye once you hear him speak a single sentence. That was just the type of person Orihara Izaya was, he knew it himself and enjoyed using it to his advantage.

And he did, oh so many times. He used anything and everything he could to his advantage, anything to give him the upper hand, the control over the situation. Observation, control, and action was practically his being after all, being in the business he was in. So here he was, using his advantage, control, over Shizuo, making the great discovery that his monster could be shaken so easily by his words of love. It made him wonder; Shizuo was someone he could never predict, could never pinpoint what exactly his next move was. What action he was going to take, when he was going to take action, where he was going to take it, and why, although why wasn't really something Izaya wondered since he doubted Shizuo even knew why. Why words like that could spark overpowering rage in Shizuo; he had no clue, but he did not really care.

Then so their cat and mouse chase began; Izaya running and Shizuo following close behind him. Neither had the intentions of killing the other tonight, deep down because on the surface it seemed like the opposite. Heated words were spat, each collective sound trying to somehow hit a nerve in their opponent. One person's words were simple, the other complicated and much like a puzzle, needed to be deciphered before they could be understood; but the opponent did not have time to even process such a puzzle. All it ever did was confuse him, and once the chase was over he completely forgot what the other said; it was just how it was. It was just how they continued this constant game of cat and mouse.

So their game went on, each person running, screaming, chasing, laughing; enjoying the little time where they could express such feelings in public without the suspicion of others. The game soon reached its peak, and soon fell into the abyss where their games usually ended. With a hop, skip, and jump, Izaya made his escape, leaving Shizuo so murderously scream and shout, letting out the feelings that Izaya constantly left him with each time they even looked at each other. It sent relief spiraling through him, and soon he would walk away from the scene, trying to erase Izaya's smug face from his mind. But Izaya, on the other hand, wouldn't be so lucky; he wouldn't be able to keep Shizuo off of his mind for a while. Although that was because he was planning for the next time they'd meet, and what would get under his monster's skin once again. Luck, it seemed, wouldn't be on his side the rest of the night either.

Although he escaped from Shizuo, he had yet to realize that he would soon need another escape plan. He had no warning for what was to come, if you thought about it, it was cruel. But, karma does tend to surprise people, and does she ever deliver. Izaya wasn't a good person; he didn't usually do good things when it came to his job as an informant. It wasn't unnatural that he would have a few enemies here and there; Shizuo ever so happened to be one of them. But most people, enemy or not, knew about Izaya's unstable behavior, ability to get the advantage in any situation, and how he could easily have you dead in ten seconds with a slash of his favorite knife. So people usually stayed away from him when they could.

But this night seemed to be different. He met with his clients, got some new information on different things, and everything went smoothly as usual. Then suddenly Izaya was surrounded by a group of men, armed men at no less. It wasn't anything he couldn't snake his way out of with a few words, a slash of his knife, and some major parkour. It wasn't like he was helpless and needed someone to save him, he has been in this type of situation before and he could take care of it himself. Besides, he figured that this would be some up-close observation of violent human activity. And did he ever love his humans.

"Orihara!" one of the men shouted with rage exploding from his voice, "You die here and now!"

Izaya's mouth curved, twisting into a sickly sweet smile as he put on his best innocent act, "What ever do you mean? Have I done something wrong?"

The man frowned deeply, his eye brows furrowing, his rage increasing steadily, "You know exactly what you did you bastard! Those men that attacked us, they got their information from you didn't they?! They killed the boss you asshole!"

Izaya displayed an expression of confusion, looking up as he put a hand on his chin, displaying the look that he was trying to remember if he did those actions or not, "Hm, I don't remember doing that."

"You liar." The man dangerously whispered.

Izaya shrugged nonchalantly, "You must have the wrong person."

Of course he was lying from his teeth, and of course he knew there was only a small chance that these men would actually believe the words coming out of his mouth. Unless these men were dumber than they looked of course, although even now Izaya doubted that even with the combined knowledge of these men they'd have the chance to be up to par with himself. He did have a big ego, but this thought wasn't purely out of cockiness, but mere fact. No smart man would rush into such situations head on like this, outnumbered or not. A smart man would plan strategically, using every part of the situation to his advantage to make sure that the plan went his way and his way only. Izaya doubted that these men had planned this that way. They obviously had only one thing in mind; Izaya's corpse on a silver platter.

"I knew that the boss shouldn't have trusted you." The man said, his hand slipping into his jacket and pulling out a gun.

'How cliché.' Izaya thought tiredly, bored already.

"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about." Izaya said innocently, that sickly sweet smile returning to his face.

"Maybe this will jog your memory." The man said.

He lifted his hand to aim his gun at Izaya, the expression of rage still displayed on his face as his finger touched the trigger. Izaya just stood in front of him, not flinching in the slightest. A smirk grew on his face, a smirk that only a few people knew of, as this was the smirk that people would normally see before meeting their death. His eyes sparked, and he suddenly found himself very interested in this situation again. As soon the men saw him open his mouth, they also aimed their guns at him, wasting no time to protect themselves from the madman. Then in one swift movement, two men were on the ground bleeding, deep slashes across their chest and face. The two men were rendered weaponless as Izaya kicked their guns away, and it didn't look as if they'd be up anytime soon.

The men wasted no time aiming once again and pulling the trigger, sending bullets flying towards Izaya, in which he used one of the two men as a shield. He slowly took steps backwards before he felt the sharpest pain in his torso, the sting running through his nerves and causing him to finally have a true expression of pain on his face. A force pushed him forward as the foreign object that intruded his body pulled out of him. He fell to his knees, doubling over in pain, losing grip of the man he used as a shield. Bullets were still in the air, and he knew his only escape was behind him. But he felt the foreign object pierce through him once again through his torso, bringing back that horrible feeling of pain as it coursed through his body.

It was obvious that if Izaya didn't move, the intrusions to his body would continue mercilessly and most likely will lead to his death. He used his free hand to switch open his knife, flicking his wrist and flipping the knife in his hand. Swinging his arm back, he felt his weapon make contact with the man behind him, piercing into his leg as the man did Izaya's torso. Izaya didn't wait a moment as he got to his feet and began making swift, wide steps backwards, using his shield for all that it was worth. Then he broke into a breath taking sprint, dropping the dead man in the process. He spiraled through alleys, the echoes of footsteps following him where ever he went, no matter what direction he took. They were persistent; it took all of Izaya's strength to lose them as he sneaked his way into a construction site.

At last he finally lost the group, but he was actually worried at the moment; he was bleeding out, and rather quickly. The physical strain he put on his wounds when he sprinted resulted in his injuries becoming worse; although there were a few on his face and his arms that were unaccounted for by Izaya. He took steps towards the exit of the construction site, and onto the street where there were no signs of the men anywhere in sight. His feet were slowly starting to become more and more heavy with each step he took, feeling as if someone attached cinder blocks to his feet. Clutching on to what chances he had, he sat in an alley, leaning on the wall behind him, then searched through him for his phone. He silently cursed as he felt no sign of his phone on him; figuring he must have dropped it during the confrontation he had earlier.

Leaning his head back against the wall, he scoffed, thinking to himself, 'To think I would be taken down by such a vague attack.'

He felt his eyes become heavier, his vision becoming blurry as his thoughts kept flowing, 'I'd love to see the look on Shizu-chan's face right now. I bet he'd be smiling to see me dying such a weak death.'

"Orihara-kun?" a voice asked, a voice as soft as summer rain.

He looked in the direction of the voice, seeing the blurry figure of a person. His eyes tried to fix their gaze on the figure, trying to figure out just who this person was. The figure was definitely short, and it definitely had long hair; his brain identified the figure as a girl, the body frame too slim to be a woman. If he were able to speak, he would ask about her presence, and how she knew his name, although it wasn't really difficult to find out his name. But his body was rendered useless as he began to lose consciousness, his body going limp, and his breathing going at a dangerously slow pace; this was most likely where he would meet his end. Suddenly, he could faintly feel hands cupping his face, the figure coming closer. His eyes were practically closed as he felt something his face and stream down it elegantly.

'Tears?' he thought, 'Just who?'

The figure rested their forehead against Izaya's a soft whisper coming through their mouth, "Let us meet again."

'What?' he thought as he met the darkness that was his death.


	2. First Meeting

_When you are young and healthy, it never occurs to you that in a single second your whole life could change.__-Annette Funicello_

Izaya felt himself welcome the darkness with open arms, although he felt as if his life had been incomplete. Lying in such a state was misery; to know that you yourself are now gone from life, he felt like he had been cheated. For the first time he felt that someone got the upper hand on him, and look where it led him. It led him to his death, led him to be wandering around this darkness for what seemed like an eternity. It made him want to live once again, just to do the things he knew he wanted to do now that he thought about truly, not denying a single word; he didn't have anything to lose. He wondered just when he would ever see light, let it be from his world or the next. That's when he opened his eyes to light, not from the next world, but his. It was enthralling, but also confusing to know that he was alive.

He felt around his body for any scars or marks; surprised at what he found. There were no scars from his wounds, not even a tiny indication that he was even in such a situation on his body. Sliding his hand down his shirt, he noticed that although he didn't have scars, he did still have the damage the weapon inflicted on his shirt. Two slashes through the back of his jacket and on both sides of his shirt where his torso is, where his scars should be residing. But there were only the slashes on his clothes, and the giant bloodstain that followed it; those were the only signs that he was involved in a fight at all. No scars, yet the signs were still there; it puzzled him. Plus the fact that he was in fact dead or supposed to be dead.

That's when he began to recall the events of the night that were closer to his death; they were fuzzy, but he could still remember the majority of it. As he recalled, there was a girl who knew his name, and she said something to him, he remembered that, but what he couldn't remember was what she had said. The words were vaguely coming to him, but he couldn't decipher it all; he remembered that her words confused him though, that was blatantly clear to him. He began to remember her actions before that; he began to drift towards death when she cupped his face, tears falling onto his face. To think this person cared for him enough to cry for him was truly puzzling, he didn't recognize the voice in the least. He looked around for the first time, and that's when he saw her.

She was lying on the ground, unconsciousness surely took over her. He stood carefully, making sure his legs were adjusted to the sudden weight he put on them, and walked over to her. Bending down, he got a good look at her face; she would be considered to be beautiful by normal people, but Izaya didn't ever really have an interest in the way people looked, at least not in that way. Izaya didn't recognize her, he was absolutely certain of this. He tugged on a strand of her short black hair that barely reached her shoulders when he remembered that she was supposed to have long hair; another puzzling factor now thrown into the bunch. Staring at her for a moment, he wondered just who this person was and how she knew him, just like how he did the night he died.

Suddenly, the words came to him like a bolt of lightning, "Let us meet again…"

He looked over her, now he was really confused as to how this woman knew him; from his standpoint it sounded like she thought of him as a close friend or a lover. Never seeing her in his life made him wonder if she was mistaken, or possibly ill, but he concluded that these thoughts weren't going to help him. As he looked over her, he noticed that she didn't have normal clothes, but a white coat, very similar to a doctor's. She also did have any shoes on, and the bottom of her feet looked filthy, like she was running on bare feet for miles. Then as he peaked under her coat to see the rest of her clothes, he was greeted with the sight of bare skin instead of clothes. It seemed that everything about this girl just screamed mystery.

Getting up, he grabbed her by her arm, noticing that she was incredibly light; not the normal surprisingly light girl, but she actually felt like she weighed barely a pound. He felt like he could practically throw her up in the air and she'd just float back down to him, now there was another mysterious factor to this girl. Picking her up, he took off his jacket and wrapped it around her waist to prevent any skin from showing. Normally he wouldn't care, but seeing as it was broad daylight, and the girl was naked under the white coat she had on, he decided it would be best if there wasn't anything more that would attract unwanted attention. Then he hoisted her up, putting one arm behind her back and the other under her knees, leaving her to lean on him for support.

He began to walk to his home, trying his best to stay out of sight of most citizens. The ones who did see him gave him a quizzical look, as he expected, but he had to keep walking on, not that such looks bothered him. He was well used to getting such weird looks from people. As he neared his home, he noted that he was going to have to tell Namie to buy some clothes for this girl, since it seemed that she had none. He walked into the building, entering the elevator, not bothering to greet anyone that passed by him, giving him the same look as everyone else. When he reached his home, he didn't even have the chance to grab the handle of the door when it swung open, revealing Namie, who was raising a brow at him.

"Where the hell have you been?" she asked in her normal tone of voice, letting Izaya walk past her into his apartment.

Izaya laid the mysterious girl on a couch, and turned to go to his bedroom, "What do you mean?"

Namie followed him, watching him even as he changed his clothes, it wasn't like he was attracted to him anyway, "You've been gone for days."

At this Izaya froze, letting his shirt dangling in his hands, "Days?"

In response, she raised a brow at him once again, "You mean you don't know how long you've been gone?"

"No. I don't, I must've lost track of time." He replied simply, unfreezing and putting his dirty clothes away, walking into his bathroom.

"You've been missing for the past week; rumors even went around about your death." Namie stated, crossing her arms across her chest, "And what were those bloodstains on your shirt?"

"More importantly," she began, "who is that girl?"

"I can't tell you that." He replied, showing her his ever smug smile before he closed the door to his bathroom; giving the impression that all this was nothing, but Namie knew better than to believe anything this man said or did.

"Then what are you going to do with the girl?" she asked, unwilling to give up this conversation so easily.

She could hear the water to his shower turn on, drowning out the sound of her voice. It irritated her how he could ignore her so easily, but she supposed she could do the same to him sometimes. But she was a bit worried when he was missing, saying that it was only of course because he was her employer and she would have to find a new job if he were to be gone, but deep down she knew she was truly worried for this man's welfare. In the slightest of ways she began to care about him, even though he was a twisted man with an obsession for human beings. She would never admit it out loud, or to herself, though, she had too much pride to admit that she cared for him. It bugged her how he could accomplish such a thing when she barely trusted him, or at least she thought she didn't trust him. Her irritated attitude ceased when he opened the door to the bathroom, walking out with just a towel around his waist.

"I don't know." He answered her question from earlier with vagueness, "But I do know what you are doing."

"What?" she asked, ready to have this topic completely change with just one sentence from his mouth.

Taking out his credit card, he handed it to her, "I want you to buy some clothes for her."

Namie looked at him quizzically, "You want me to buy clothes for her?"

"Yes." He answered simply, throwing his choice of clean clothes he wanted to wear on the bed.

She sighed, "Alright. What's her size?"

"I don't know." He replied, putting on his shirt.

"You don't know and yet you're making me buy clothes for her?" she questioned, "How am I supposed to know what size to buy?"

"I haven't the slightest idea, but you'll figure it out." Izaya led her out of his bedroom and closed the door, "Just judge her size by the way she looks."

Namie looked over to the girl resting on the couch, still curious as to what she had to do with Izaya. She looked too innocent to be part of anything suspicious, but heaven knows that she shouldn't be judging people by what they gave off of looks. Observing her, she noted that the girl was pretty tiny; definitely a teenager, maybe even still in high school. Her eye brows rose when she realized what clothes the girl was wearing, and judging by the jacket that Izaya must have wrapped around her waist, she didn't have anything under either. Then looking at how dirty the girl was, it led her to wonder just where in the hell did he find this girl, and how she knew someone like Izaya. He wasn't easy to come by in the business he was in, and the things that he normally did.

She began to think it over until she was interrupted, 'How does a high schooler like her-'

"So you figure out her size?" he asked nonchalantly.

"She's, tiny." She replied, looking at him quizzically again, "Just who is she?"

"I can't tell you that." He repeated, "Just buy her clothes."

"Just where-" Namie began, then sighing and continuing, "Never mind. How much do you want me to buy?"

Izaya thought over her question as he turned on his coffee machine, hearing it gargle to life as drops of coffee plopped into the coffee pot. The girl definitely had to do with his miraculous recovery, although he did not know how, he planned to find out once she woke up. So the girl would be staying a while and if she refused to talk he could bribe her with the clothes Namie would soon be buying. But it seemed that she cared about him enough to save his life and stay by his side until he woke up, even though it seemed that she fell unconscious one way or another. It was beginning to be obvious that this girl was going to stay with him for a while. He was surely going to be questioned about her, whether it be Namie or another human, so he was going to have to think over an excuse for her presence.

"About a week's worth." He replied, "And make sure the clothes are nice."

At this point, Namie stopped wondering why and just silently listened to his words, "Is that it? Any type of clothes you want to give her?"

Izaya didn't bother to tell he wasn't in a relationship like that with the girl, "I don't know, you choose."

"Fine." She simply replied, turning to walk out of his apartment.

"Oh and make sure to remove the tags." He called out.

"Mhm." Namie responded, shutting the door behind her.

As the door closed with a soft click, Izaya leaned against his table, flipping another one of his knives in his hand, patiently waiting for the coffee to be ready. There was nothing else to recall, he had already went over the events of that night in his mind several times; the only thing that was left was to wait for the girl to awaken, and ask her the questions he had in mind. Waiting wasn't one of his best qualities, especially now since she was the only thing that he could think about at the moment, but he knew that he could wait when it was important times. This just happened to be one of those important times. He heard the sound from coffee machine come to a halt, turning around and pouring himself a cup of coffee. As he took his first sip, he heard the soft sounds of rustling. Turning around, he saw that the girl was now awake, sitting up and looking around his home with innocent curiosity.

He took another sip, letting the liquid flow down his throat before greeting her, "I see you're finally awake."


	3. Shizuo's Discovery

_Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up.__ -James A. Baldwin_

Shizuo blew out another puff of the intoxicating smoke that seemed to run through his system like he lived on it. He was frustrated as of late; the reason why he didn't know, although he had a feeling of the reason. To say this feeling out loud would just be sickening, revolting in fact; hell would freeze over before he would say these words out loud. But it seemed as though he missed the bane in his life that was the "flea", Orihara Izaya. Frustrating to say the least, seeing as though Shizuo hated him with an everlasting passion yet supposedly cared about him enough to somewhat miss the little parasite. It had been a week since they last seen each other, and that day was a day that was imbedded into Shizuo's brain to the last detail.

He breathed in the toxic smoke once again, blowing it out his mouth calmly as he recalled that day. The flea said disturbing words that day; ones that sent chills down Shizuo's spine. Words of love, Shizuo nearly hurled; agreeing that kind words such as 'I', 'care', 'for', and 'you' in that combination did not sound the least bit appealing coming out of the flea's mouth. But what bothered him was how he reacted to the flea's words; he went on a complete rampage, and it wasn't completely because he was disgusted by those words. Do not misunderstand, he did in fact found some disgust in them, but there was another feeling mixed within them, making his feelings for the words bittersweet. He couldn't put his finger on those feelings, but he had a sneaking suspicion that he should just leave them alone unless he wanted to be more confused than he already was.

Dropping the cigarette to the ground, he smashed it with his foot, walking away from the scene calmly, although the feeling of irritation bubbled inside his brain. He had the urge to punch something, but he didn't want to destroy any more public property than he really needed to. The little rampage he went on the week before caused at least triple the damage of his normal fights with the flea did. The flea had infuriated him, even with the already very short temper and tolerance Shizuo had with him. That being said, he held off on any punching, kicking, or anything that cause damage for the past week. It was beginning to get to him though, he needed to take his frustrations out on something; normally that something being the flea, but the flea did step foot into Ikebukuro for the past week.

So here was, stalking the streets of Ikebukuro, waiting for any sign of the flea to pop up at any moment. Shizuo thought that surely sooner or later the flea had to step into Ikebukuro; he knew that the flea had business here. There were some rumors spreading like wildfire that the flea was dead, but Shizuo didn't believe that nonsense; he truly believed that the parasite wouldn't be taken down so easily. As much as he hates to admit it, the man did have this way of squirming his way out of any situation he was put it, whether it be difficult or easy. He did it many times before each time he fought with Shizuo, so it wasn't Shizuo's fault if he called bullsh*t on such rumors. Plus, he silently agreed that the only one who would be able to kill the flea would be himself, and only himself.

'I'll be damned if I let anyone kill him before I do.' He thought, slipping his hands into his pockets as he walked.

Although this was what he always wanted; for the flea to finally be gone from his life, for Izaya to just leave him alone. But now that he got that wish, he wanted the damn flea back. He absolutely refused to admit it, he was certain that at least one person would be telling him 'Never know what you've got until it's gone', and he suspected the person who would tell him that would be Tom. The thought of the flea being gone forever was irritating, leaving Shizuo to wonder why he was making such a fuss about all this when he claimed to hate the flea so much that he wants to kill him every time he sees him. Naturally he convinced himself that this was all because he needed someone to take out his frustrations out on, but in the back of his mind there was a gnawing feeling that told him that those were just excuses.

'Excuses my *ss.' He thought, 'I do need that flea to take out my frustrations on. What else is he good for?'

The night that Izaya supposedly went missing came crawling back into his mind; he just couldn't shake the memories out of his system for good. He had tried before, but no matter how many cigarettes he burned, no matter how many beers he drank, or how many people he talked to, it was always in his mind somewhere, just waiting to crawl back up and bite him. Seeing as there was no point in fighting for a lost cause, Shizuo turned the corner, heading into an alley. He knew he could find his way out of the alley even though he didn't have much of a photographic memory of the alleys as the flea did. Letting the memories rush back towards him again, he walked around aimlessly like a child who lost their parents.

That night had begun like it normally had, everything was going well until the flea showed up, and even then nothing was out of the normality that Shizuo was comfortable with. They fought, Izaya taunted him, and Shizuo went on his usual rage filled rampage, until he just had to say those words. Shizuo cringed at how real they sounded, like the flea actually meant it, but he knew better than to believe anything the flea said; he did do things for his own gain after all. It wasn't like they thought of each other in that sort of way, in fact it sickened Shizuo to think of the flea like that, and he knew subconsciously that the other party felt the same way. To think of them as friends was a long-shot let alone lovers.

Shizuo scoffed, his eye brow twitching in irritation for the fifth time that day, 'Disgusting. I'm definitely gonna kill him the second he steps into Ikebukuro for saying that sh*t.'

Then he went on his extreme rampage as he said earlier, but when he lost the flea was when he really lost it. Calm was no longer in his mind, it had emptied out of his system without a trace and had been replaced with pure rage. He punched walls to work off his anger, walls that would now need repairing, and that lasted him for a little while. That was until a couple of days passed, then he was just starting to get irritated. It was true that Shizuo truly didn't want to see Izaya's face for a while, those words got to him of course, but then after those days passed, he began waiting for the flea to come crawling into Ikebukuro.

'How dare he say sh*t like that.' He thought, 'He better be prepared for an *ss kicking when he gets back.'

Shizuo growled with underlining rage, the flea did know just how to get under his skin and burrow his presence into his mind. It has always been like that ever since they met in high school; the flea would mess with him mercilessly, playing mind games with him. Trying to confuse him, throw him off, break him in anyway that the flea could think of. This was all because Shizuo wasn't a normal human. He was well aware that the flea classified him as a "monster" and it bothered him to no end at one point, but that was what he expected of the flea now. To hear the flea call him anything but would be abnormal, and Shizuo knew that calling the flea anything but "flea" would also be abnormal.

It was like a never ending rollercoaster that neither could get off of; always twisting, turning, rising, and falling in a fast pace. If the rollercoaster was going slow, it would soon be going at unstably fast rate; it was just how their relationship was. If the one of them were in a sense of normality, the other had to come along and screw everything up, whether it is Izaya or Shizuo. To describe it in full detail would be too complicated, they both simply called it hate, and they wouldn't be wrong. Hate is the great disgust you feel for a person, you feel sick whenever you're near them, and you want to express your hate whenever you see them; it fit perfectly into what they had. But there was another thing mixed in there that made their hate last, neither of it knowing just what exactly it was. It was confusing to say the least.

'This is starting to give me a headache.' Shizuo massaged his temples, trying to ease the pain that his swirling thoughts caused.

As he walked, the familiar foul scent of the flea slowly popped up, nearly causing Shizuo to go mad. He wondered for a moment if he was just imagining things, but as he paused his walking and sniffed, he concluded that he definitely was smelling the flea. But it wasn't as strong of a stench as it usually was; it was faded, like it had been washed away somehow. Shizuo followed the scent, the scent slowly getting stronger and stronger as he walked. For a moment his eye brow twitched in irritation once again, the flea's voice sneaking its way into his head. It was saying something that the flea would certainly say at this moment.

'You're like a dog, sniffing out my scent.' Shizuo could practically hear the snickers coming from the flea's mouth.

Now he was determined to follow the scent, whether it led him to the flea or not he would find out, but he knew exactly what he was going to do if he did find him. Walking in now swift steps, he followed the scent precisely. Where it led him wasn't surprising; it led him to a suspicious dark alley, just the place Shizuo expected his kind to be in. But something was off with this alley, Shizuo was absolutely certain. Along with the smell of the flea, there was this underlining feeling of danger, as if a group attacked someone in here. It made him think for a moment; the rumors said that Izaya was attacked by a group from an infamous gang. But Shizuo was certain that those rumors weren't real, or at least the death part wasn't real.

'He couldn't be dead that easily.' He thought, 'Could he?'

Shizuo inwardly shook his head in disagreement, 'No, impossible. That flea always found a way to get around things, this is no different.'

'If anything he'll be hurt.' Shizuo concluded with absolute certainty, 'Not dead, just seriously injured.'

Shizuo looked around the alley, looking for anything suspicious, but he couldn't see anything in the dark. Taking out his phone, he shined the light around the alley, finally being able to see a thing or two. What he saw wasn't comforting in the least though; bloodstains were a few feet away from him. Two big blotches of dried blood, and splatters of it around it; he wondered just what the hell happened here. As he kept looking, his eyes caught sight of an object he really didn't want to see; the flea's phone laying on the ground. Shizuo picked it up, examining it, it didn't seem to be broken, but it was dead, that was for sure.

'Why the hell?' Shizuo wondered, 'The flea wouldn't be so stupid to leave his phone lying around.'

He spotted more bloodstains behind the ones he had already seen, and they seemed to be making a trail. Shizuo followed the trail without a second thought, putting Izaya's phone in his other pocket while still holding his phone to light the way. It led him down other suspicious alleys, and the bloodstains were getting to be more frequent; leaving the obvious answer that whoever this blood was from was seriously injured or possibly dead. The flea was involved with this, Shizuo knew that, and so were a group of people, but he couldn't tell if this blood was from Izaya or the group. Izaya was running, and the group of men were chasing him, and although Shizuo hoped that Izaya wasn't the person this blood came from, it was beginning to be obvious that it was. If one of the people in the group were hurt, they could just stay back and not risk anymore damage, but if it was Izaya, he would have to run or be killed.

Shizuo punched the wall with the hand that wasn't holding his phone, 'Damn it! He better not be…'

His footsteps became quicker with a longer stride as he followed what seemed like the never ending bloodstains. It was like some twisted trail that would lead him to something he really didn't want to see. That's when the bloodstains stopped. He paused, staring at the last bloodstain, he was certain there were more, he could still smell the flea's stench. Deciding that following it would be a better option than just leaving like this, he continued walking. It led him to a construction site of all places, and when he looked around, he could see the bloodstains continue, but it seemed different, and then Shizuo figured that the flea must've lost the group by now. Now the only problem was if he survived or not.

Continuing on, the stains led him down more alleys, and Shizuo wondered just how much someone needed to bleed in order to die; because the flea's blood seemed to be everywhere. As he walked down another alley, the blood stopped by a wall; in fact the blood was on the wall. Shizuo sighed in relief, surprisingly. He was relieved because now he knew the flea was certainly alive, or else his lifeless body would be sitting right here. But now all he could think about was where the hell the flea was now and how did he survive this. He lost too much blood to be able to go to any kind of medical help, so that left Shizuo wondering. But he knew he would find out one way or another.


	4. Evolving Mystery

_The truth will set you free, but first it will make you miserable.__ –James A. Garfield_

"I see you're finally awake."

The girl turned her attention to Izaya, looking at him with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. She opened her mouth, as if she was going to say something, but a hoarse, airy cough came out instead. At that moment she held her throat, trying to signal him that she could not speak. Izaya simply took another sip of coffee, walking over to his kitchen to get her a glass of water. When he finished, he turned around, stopping in his tracks when he saw her waiting right behind him for the water instead of staying on the couch. She took the glass from him carefully, and then completely drank the water in one swig, handing the now empty glass back to him for more. He poured her more water, in which she drank it all in one swig once again and handed it back to him.

"More?" he asked, raising a brow.

"Mhm!" she finally made a sound, her soft voice still hoarse.

He took the glass from her, placing it in the sink instead. Then he opened his cabinet and grabbed out a large bowl, filling it with water to the brim. Although he was suspecting that this girl saved his life, he decided that it wouldn't hurt to tease the girl just a little. But when he carefully handed the bowl to her, putting his coffee down, she took a sip, then starting tipping the bowl towards her mouth as she poured the entire bowl of water down her throat. She handed the bowl back to him with a mouth full of water, silently asking him for more. Izaya stared at her with one brow raised for a moment, then reluctantly poured more water into the bowl when she nodded. Once he carefully gave her the bowl again, she did the same thing and he began to wonder how much water this girl could consume before she finally thought she had enough. Although it was not until the tenth bowl of water that the girl breathed out a soft sigh as she handed the bowl to him.

Izaya looked at her tiredly, now entirely bored with what started out as a joke, "You still want more?"

"No." she shook her head in response.

Izaya sighed in relief as he threw the bowl into the sink, "Good."

Izaya picked up his coffee, peaking inside to see the contents of the cup, and then proceeded to pour the rest of the liquid down the sink. The coffee had turned cold from the amount of times that he had to refill the large bowl; they were standing there for most of an hour after all. He placed the empty cup in the sink, turning to her with a questioning look. From what he could see, she was small, the top of her head barely reaching his chin; it left him to wonder how such a tiny girl could consume water that looked like it was practically half of her body weight, and all at once. Izaya expected that the girl would be abnormal, or at least act abnormal, but not this sort of abnormal.

'Where can she even store all of that liquid…' he wondered, cocking his head as he stared at her up and down; this girl was more of a mystery than he first thought.

The girl cocked her head to the side, mimicking him, "What?"

He gave her his sickly sweet smile that would usually throw people off, saying in his innocent voice, "Nothing. I'm just wondering who you are…"

A bright smile suddenly flashed on the girl's face, chirping in a cheerful voice, "I'm Karen!"

"Karen…" Izaya trailed off, thinking she'd take the hint and say her last name, but she just stared at him in response, "Karen what?"

"What do you mean by 'what'?" she asked, a confused look displayed on her face.

"What's your last name?" he answered, wondering as to why she was acting as if she knew nothing about anything.

She thought for a moment before replying, "I don't have one, I guess."

He raised a brow, "You don't have one?"

"No. I guess not." She replied, then looked up at him again, "And who are you?"

'Who am I?' Izaya thought quizzically.

He was taken aback by her words at first, then began looking at her with a condescending look, figuring that she was taking him for a fool. The girl- Karen –had to have known him; she said his name just before he died, he recognized her soft voice. She's the one who cried for him, who told him that she wanted them to meet again as her tears dripped off of his face; there was no way she didn't know him. Unless he made some kind of mistake, although he really couldn't see how he could, Karen was definitely the girl from the alley, and she was definitely doing something. He just needed to figure out what. Although, whatever she was planning, it seemed like he was playing into her hands, he had to give her props for using his moment of weakness against him like that.

He laughed, then sent a dangerous smile towards her, telling her that he meant business, "Who am I? I think you know who I am."

"I really don't." she replied innocently.

"Then why did you say my name that night?" he asked, bending over to her level.

"What night?" she questioned, "I don't remember any night."

His eyes narrowed just a little, "You don't? Isn't that strange that you don't remember that night?"

"No, I mean I don't remember any night." She said to him, trying to get him to understand what she meant, "I don't remember anything."

"You don't remember anything?" he asked rhetorically, "Then how do you remember your name?"

"Well it's on this coat." She replied simply, pointing to the tiny stitched in name on the breast pocket.

Izaya glanced at the girl's pocket, seeing the vaguely visible stitching on it; it did in fact read the name 'Karen'. But that didn't prove anything of what had already said to him, he was certain that she was hiding something, although he didn't know why. She just looked at him innocently as he stared at her to read any signs of nervousness or panic; he found absolutely none. The girl looked so calm, a really convincing expression of innocence on her face. It didn't make any sense for her to just lose her memory so suddenly; but truthfully he wasn't sure. He had been unconscious for a week as it seemed, something could've happened to her in that time. But it didn't click for him; the question was why did she leave him there if she had been conscious at the time that he died. The other question was how did she bring him back to this world, or if she even did bring him back. For now, he couldn't tell, so he had no choice to keep his questions for a later time until he investigated this situation in detail.

He walked past her, his dangerous smile fading off of his face as he put on a mask of calmness. She simply followed him into the next room, and the next room, and the next room. Izaya first thought that the girl was going to just wander around his apartment, but she walked right behind him, following him like a lost puppy. It wasn't as if he could do anything though, no matter what room he went in, she would follow, and that didn't exclude bathrooms. He didn't want to scare her off, she was a vital part of his return, even though it did somewhat bother him that she was dead set on following him everywhere. Spinning on his heel, he turned to her, stopping her in her tracks.

"Why are you following me?" he asked tiredly, "I have some things to catch up on and I don't need you following me around."

"You haven't told me who you are yet." She replied, looking up at him as he towered over her.

He sighed, "I'm Orihara Izaya."

"And who are you to me?" she asked.

'I'd like to know that.' He thought, giving her a blank stare.

He mulled over what he should reply to her for a moment, before smirking in response, "I am your roommate."

"Roommate..." Karen said to herself, as if trying to store it in her memory.

"Yes, and if you don't mind, I have things to do now." Izaya replied, going to his computer and reviewing a few things he missed while he was gone.

The girl was a mystery indeed, everything about her was just strange; her tendencies were strange, her logic was strange, her physical state was strange, her background was strange. Everything was just so puzzling with her; the questions never seemed to stop. When one was answered, five more popped up in response, as if it was nearly impossible to solve the mystery that was her. She just seemed like a never ending pit of secrets at this point, and with no lead but her name with the abnormal clothes she was wearing; it was going to be difficult for even him to find information on this girl. But he'd find it somehow, some way, he always did; no matter what obstacle was placed within his path, he'd find a way to rid of it and continue on his way, it's what he was good at.

His eyes skimmed across the screen as he checked all of his sources, finding nothing useful for his current situation. But what he did find was that word about his death did spread quite quickly just as Namie had said. He figured that it must've been the group of men that attacked him, most likely bragging about how they managed to take down the ever slick Orihara Izaya. Little did they know that Izaya was in fact alive and kicking, not a scratch on him. That was of course due to the girl that was currently staying with him; how he does not know, but he will be finding out, no matter how much time it takes. Avenging his own death could come later, and dealing with the rumors could be dealt with later as well; his main priority was to solve his current puzzle that was Karen.

Taking his eyes off of the screen, he looked up, seeing that Karen wasn't in the room anymore. He almost got off of his seat, he didn't want her getting into any trouble, it would be troublesome for himself. But she soon strolled back into his sight, coming from the kitchen with the ever present look of curiosity on her face. At this point Izaya wondered if she had never discovered any of this, or forgot about all of it in what ever accident she had been in to make her lose her memory. He couldn't see well in his dying state, so observing her then was difficult, but from what he saw, she definitely was different. Although there was the possibility that he was delusional, he found that it made no difference; either way he did not know what happened to her or him.

Suddenly, he heard a loud yelp of surprise, his eyes quickly darting to the source; Karen. She was now covered in hot coffee across her stomach, and the pot the said coffee was once in was messily splayed across the floor in shatters. He pushed off his chair quickly, sending it rolling backwards slowly, as he went over to her. Grabbing her white coat, he unbuttoned it enough to see her stomach, ignoring the peaking sight of cleavage. His eyes widened in surprise at what he saw; she took no damage from the hot coffee that had just been poured on her less than a minute ago. No red mark, not even a look of pain across her face, just the look of surprise. It was like she didn't yelp because she got hurt, but that she was startled by the sudden contact with the liquid. There was now yet another thing to add to the list of strangeness from her, specifically the physical section.

Sighing he, grabbed her hand and led her to his bathroom, making sure that she avoided the shards of glass on the floor. He noted that he was going to have to keep a close eye on her, as in making sure that she didn't do anything like that again. Now he had a whole mess to deal with, not that he had to since he could just tell Namie to clean it up. He let her button down the rest of her coat, turning around to give her some privacy, although he doubted that she was uncomfortable since all she ever seemed to be was curious. After she was done, he took the coat from her, throwing it where he put his dirty clothes. Leaving the bathroom, he almost made it outside his bedroom, but then Karen stopped him in his tracks.

"What do I do now?" she asked, poking her head out of the bathroom.

"Take a shower." He answered, turning to walk back out.

But of course he was stopped once again, "And how do I do that?"

He raised an eye brow, "You don't know how to take a shower?"

She shook her head, "No."

Just then Izaya heard the sound of his front door opening, causing him to be relieved, "Just in time."


End file.
